


escape the burning wait

by ragequilt



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Gen, In chapter six, author knows the barest minimum about greek mythology and greece in general, descriptions of canon-typical past abuse, i am so painfully invested in zagreus' happiness, i just want him to have nice things, post-current ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:19:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22287007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragequilt/pseuds/ragequilt
Summary: zagreus finally makes it out of the underworld, but it's not like his journey ends there.(canon compliant up through the Welcome to Hell update, for the most part)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 84





	1. a moment

**Author's Note:**

> i cannot put into words how obsessed i am with this game and these characters. i've never been in on what feels like the ground(ish) floor of a fandom before, and it felt obligatory that i contribute something when i have all these feelings.
> 
> i really and sincerely don't know much about greek mythology (though i am doing a lot of googling). please take any weird details with a grain of salt and try to love me regardless. i am doing my best.
> 
> title from the hozier lyric generator [here](http://www.generatorland.com/usergenerator.aspx?id=22501), because if someone out there knows how to title things it is NOT me
> 
> unbeta'd, so all mistakes are my own. find these works cross-posted on tumblr [here](https://thanzag.tumblr.com/)

Hades is dead, sent back to the house. Zagreus is still thrumming with adrenaline, and his whirring brain wonders if he walks out of the Pool of Styx like everyone else, or if he licks his wounds in private. He… doesn’t really want to know. Hopefully never finds out. If he dies, on the surface, does he have to do all of this again?

There is still life in him, for all that he is sore and bleeding, but he struggles to drag himself to the edge of the water regardless. His feet kick up ashes, but the falling snow — that’s what it’s called, right? — is cold where it melts on his skin. He drops to the ground because his legs are trembling, and looks into the water.   


It’s nothing like the River Styx. Clear, up close, and when he looks further, it turns into a deep, opaque blue. His reflection looks different, too. Rippling and morphing, but otherwise a mirror image of his face. None of the red tinge of blood.  


When he dips his hand into the water, it’s cold, too. This is so much more, so much different than the Underworld. No wonder that mortals are afraid to leave this place. He’s not sure he can go back, now, either.   


He’ll just rest here, a moment, and then he’ll start on his way to Mount Olympus. Just a moment.  



	2. a conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> zagreus meets someone new, but he's never known a stranger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbeta'd, so all mistakes are my own.

It takes real effort to get to his feet and get moving. But he has a quest, and he’s come too far to falter now.

He leaves the water’s edge and heads for the archway, Stygius heavy in his hands. A weight has been lifted from his shoulders, though. There is nothing more insurmountable than his father, and Hades will surely not chase him across the surface. He might send someone else, but — Zagreus is not afraid of any of them. He has never, really, been afraid.

The world is snowy and white on the other side of the archway, and without Daedalus’ labyrinthine chambers to guide his course, he sets off in the direction of what must be the sun.

Zagreus walks for a long time. He does not tire, but when the sun crosses over his head and eventually disappears beyond the horizon, he decides to find somewhere to rest. Nyx may not be physically present, but when night falls around him, it feels much like she is with him regardless.

He settles in at the base of a tree, keeping his smoldering feet way from the trunk of it. His own latent heat has melted much of the snow on the ground around him by the time he has settled in, and he forces himself to relax with his sword across his lap.

His mind won’t stop, though. There is too much to think about, and if he could have kept on course without the presence of the sun, he would still be walking. But instead he’s going to sit here and — ruminate, apparently.

He has not crossed paths with any person over the course of this day, and few other living creatures besides. He feels — very lonely. Even picking up one of the Olympians’ boons and hearing whatever message they had sent with it — that did a great deal to stave off the feelings of solitude. He hadn’t even had a chance to see Eurydice on his way through, last time.

There are so many people he hadn’t said goodbye to, because he hadn’t really expected to — to make it out. To defeat his father.

Regret won’t get him anywhere, and it’s not as if he is going to go back of his own free will. But he still wishes he had talked more with Achilles, told more jokes to Hypnos. Even seen Megaera one last time — Alecto had been the one gatekeeping Tartarus, this time. He wishes he’d pet Cerberus before giving him that revolting, distracting treat.

He shifts, restless, and his belt squeaks.

When he looks down, he sees Mort, and —

He squeezes the little mouse gently as he pulls it off of his belt, and it squeaks quietly again in his hand. “Thanatos?” All he’d had to do to call Than’s help during battle was to say his name, but —

There’s no response. Mort’s black eyes stare back at him, their grey fur soft and plush in his hands. He leans his head back with a thunk against the tree and sighs.  
  


* * *

  
Eventually, sleep finds him. It does not feel like Hypnos, though. Just a long period of blackness where not even dreams are present. Before he knows it or means to, though, he is jolted back into the waking world.

There is a nymph crouched beside him, big-eyed and staring. He doesn’t jump, but it’s a close thing.

“Hello,” he says to her, shifting slightly away. She is closer than he would like, but, well. This is probably her tree, so he started it. Is that how it works?

“Hello, traveler,” she returns, shifting in place to stand tall. She wears a fine and woven tunic of what look like needles. Pine needles? He wasn’t expecting the smell of them. “Do you come with word from Lady Artemis?”

He looks at her blankly. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.”

“You bear her aura,” she says, looking pointedly at him, somewhere in the lap area. He looks down and sees only Stygius, and — oh.

“I’m sorry, I don’t come with word from Artemis,” he says, smoothing a hand across the width of the blade. “I only bear her blessing.” He gets to his feet.

“Only?” The aghast way the nymph is looking at him now is a clear sign of his screw-up, and he holds up his hands in surrender.

“You’re right, that didn’t sound right. I couldn’t have made it through without her help. I only mean — I have never personally met her. Or communicated with her.” Though, her voice, her messages that came with her boons… They were always a source of strength, for him. But he’s not going to share that.

“I see,” the nymph says, and sighs a little. She leans against the bark of the tree and it is a seamless transition from her skin to the wood. Living things are incredible.

“I am... going to meet her, though? Hopefully? I could pass on a message, if you want.”

“I could never ask that. I would hate to trouble her.”

Watching the nymph, Zagreus struggles for a moment to find the right words. “I— You’re her people. You’re — part of her domain. Would it really be troubling her?”

“Still, I —“ 

He barrels on. “Please? She can’t be everywhere at once, but I am sure she would like to hear from you.”

The nymph sighs again, and —

“What is your name, by the way? I’m Zagreus.” This conversation is one he wishes he’d been fully awake for from the start. A nymph! Talking to him! He misses Eurydice terribly, suddenly.

“My sisters call me Iole. I am protector of this forest,” she says, after a time.

He continues to watch her, even as the sky begins to change with the rising sun. He can see it happening behind her through the trees.

She folds her arms and looks away, somewhere over his shoulder. “I worry that there are those in the village nearby that would come to harvest our trees for wood. But they are strong, and will not listen to my pleading.”

“They’re going to — to kill you?” He was torn, before, about killing satyrs and vermin, but this — it makes his stomach twist.

Her mouth wears a frown, now, and he gets to his feet. “It is my duty to protect this forest, and I will die doing it if I must,” she tells him, and — and then she shrugs. He can’t imagine the expression he is wearing. “But they will not try that until the springtime. Winter is harsh for the humans, you know.”

He didn’t know that. Only has a vague grasp of things like the seasons.

“How long is that? I could — I could go talk to them.”

“Unless you plan to stand by me at the edge of the forest and fight them yourself, you will not convince them of anything.” She shifts on her feet, presses her mouth into a firm line. “There are a few months still until the weather will have cleared so that they might try it. If Lady Artemis were to intervene...”

The picture is a clear one.

“Iole, I — I will find Artemis as urgently as I can. I am on my way to Mount Olympus, as soon as I figure out where that... is.” Saying it aloud makes him feel a little dumb, but it’s not like there were maps of the surface made accessible to him in the Underworld. It’s just the truth.

“You really aren’t from around here, are you?” she asks dryly, tone so reminiscent of Than’s that something aches in his chest. “Travel north — with the rising sun on your right — and you will find it in time. It is a great distance, whether you follow the roads or not.”

“North,” he says, nodding. He turns and looks in that direction, and thinks. “How will I know once I’m there?”

She laughs a little, then, and shakes her head. “It is a mountain so tall that the top can not be seen from the ground. But I’m sure you can ask for further directions, if you need them.” Oh. Of course. She must see his half-embarrassed expression, because she laughs again. Reaches out and gently touches his shoulder. “I believe that you can do it, Zagreus. I trust this in you.”

“…thank you. I won’t let you down.”

There is a soft, grateful look on her face now. He doesn’t know what to do with it, not really. Snow has started to fall once more, and she nods at him. “Thank you, Zagreus, and farewell.”

“Farewell, Iole.”

He feels her watching his back as he leaves, heading North, toward Mount Olympus. He has new, dual purpose, and it is invigorating.


	3. a fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's a long walk to olympus. even zagreus didn't think it would be without challenge, but that doesn't mean he was expecting this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning for canon-typical violence in this chapter!
> 
> like always, this is unbeta'd, so any mistakes are my own!

There is _so much_ to see of the earth on his long walk, even though he does not truly have time to stop and appreciate it. The snow is a constant crunch under his feet, and he’s started to count the days of his travel, if for no reason other than his own curiosity.

He doesn’t _have_ to eat or drink, but he misses the taste of the pomegranates from home. No — from the House. That’s not his home any longer, and he hates that he is reflexively thinking it. When he comes across a river, though, he does stop to taste the water, look at his reflection. His own face doesn’t do anything to combat his mounting loneliness, but it feels good to know that he’s — still the same.  
  


* * *

  
On the fourth day since he left Iole in the forest and began his long walk, something happens. From the East comes a terrible beating of wings, and cackling laughter, and — 

The Furies are much different in the light of day. Distantly, of course, he knew that they could fly, but not like this, circling around his head, out of reach. He falls into a defensive stance, drawing once more on Achilles’ training, and eyes them warily. Their presence here can not mean anything good for him.

“Lord Hades says _hello_ , Redblood!” Alecto calls, baring all of her teeth at him. She’s more than pale in the light of day, and her red dress looks the color of blood. It is eerily different to see them like this. Tisiphone is silent and sallow on his other side, staring at him with her yellow eyes. It feels like she is looking right through him. 

In front of him hovers Meg, her whip tightly gripped in her hands and a grim look on her face. “For crimes against Lord Hades, we are here to take you back to the Underworld. By any means necessary.”

“C’mon, ladies, you know that’s not going to happen. I won’t give in that easily. How many times have I fought you off before? This isn’t going to go the way you want it to, be reasonable!” It’s second-nature to run his mouth, of course, but in a weird and distant way he is so grateful to see them. To have someone to talk to. 

“ _Murderer_ ,” Tisiphone growls, and Meg shakes her head at him. He wonders briefly if this is one of those situations where she’s doing this just because it is her job, or if she really thinks he belongs back in the Underworld. Back in the House. It’s not like — well. It’s not like he could blame her, really. 

“I’m going to look forward to sending you back,” Alecto says, snapping her whip, and when she glances at her sisters, he uses the distraction to dash away. Just in time, too, because she dives for where he was the moment after.

He finds himself behind her, and with Artemis’ power washing over him, he runs back toward her with his blade at the ready. She yells and spins, cracking her whip in his direction, but he dodges out of the way. Overhead, Meg and Tisiphone still linger, but he doesn’t have the time to worry about them right now. 

He’s doing his best to stay behind her, because she can’t defend herself well that way — he’s fought her enough times to know that. Aphrodite’s power imbued into his bloodstones make for a hot-pink spray against her back, weakening Alecto for a few moments, and he hesitates to take a breath. Four days shouldn’t be enough time to be out of practice, but he’s feeling winded already. 

She’s screaming _something_ that he can’t understand, enraged, and she launches herself back into the air. The first circle of lightning that she calls down on him catches him by surprise — how had he forgotten that was in her repertoire? — and he stumbles.

Stumbles headfirst into a cloud of sickly grey-green fog. He can’t see, he can’t see, he panics and dashes out of it, directly into another bolt of lightning. 

_Damn it_. He curses aloud and focuses, running out of the way of another bolt of lightning. And then one, and another, and then she’s ceasing her overhead spinning to dive at him again.

He catches her in the face with his blade, stunning her briefly. It brings out her feral grin in full force again, like it doesn’t even bother her. “Not so fast now, are you?” she taunts, striking at him with her whip. It just barely misses, and he sends Hermes thanks for it. 

“Two can play at your game, Alecto,” he returns, even though it’s hard to talk and fight at the same time. “How does your hair look standing on end?” He drives his blade into the ground at her feet and it calls upon Zeus’ boon to strike lightning in its place, jolting her out of position. She swears at him, and he dashes in toward her. Behind him, a circle of flame appears, and he glances up to look at Meg. 

Of course she would have to help them fight him. Right? It’s not like she’s going to do something to endanger her job. Still, he’d rather they weren’t on different sides of this fight. She would be a formidable ally, if he could have her.

…an ally. There’s an idea.

“Than?!” he calls, even as he strikes her again, hoping that whatever connection the other man has with Mort will bring him to Zagreus’ side.

Every time he’d appeared in the underworld, it was instantaneous.

Nothing happens. Nothing at all.

Alecto laughs, something harsh and grating on his nerves and ears, and he growls. Fine. He’ll do this alone. He doesn’t need any more help; the Gods have more than taken care of him.

She turns and whips at him again, and he dodges half a second too late. It catches on his arm and leaves a ruby-red welt, and he hisses. 

Well, if Than won’t help him, maybe —

“Athena, lend me your aid!”

He _shines_ , he can feel it, and Athena’s blessing sends Alecto’s whip striking back at her. It cracks on contact, and he strikes at her again. Tisiphone — it must be Tisiphone, anyway — casts them both in another cloud of fog, and he ignores it. Can’t see much of anything, but it’s not like Alecto can really get away from him like this. 

He dashes behind her again, something he achieves only because she can’t see him either — or at least he assumes so — and calls another bolt of lightning, unloads another spray of bloodstones into her back.

He strikes, and strikes, and even as Athena’s protection fades away he’s hitting her, again and again and —

He catches her in the ribs with Stygius, somehow, and the pained and gasping look on her face just makes him feel more grim. “Damn you, Redblood,” she curses him, dropping her whip and sinking further onto his sword. 

She’s already fading, falling into dust that he can only assume is going to be swept back into the Underworld. He doesn’t expect that Hermes is going to be leading her back, at least. 

When she’s gone, he straightens, holding his sword at the ready. Tisiphone and Meg are both looking at him, and Meg has her eyebrows nearly in her hairline. She looks surprised that he fought Alecto off, and he’s nearly offended at the implication of that.

“So, which one of you is next? I told you I wouldn’t go down without a fight,” he remarks, more boldly than he feels. Alecto got some good hits in on him, and who knows how fast he’ll heal, out here on the surface. He definitely won’t recover any before it’s time to go toe to toe with another Fury. There’s no way.

Meg looks at Tisiphone, and they must be silently communicating. He uses the short reprieve to catch his breath. Or to try, anyway.

It’s really not much of a break, and he’s just distracted enough by the pain in his leg and his arm that Tisiphone catches him straight-on with her whip. She’s lunging for him before he can react, and when she makes contact with him it _hurts_. 

Still, he has to fight back. He is _not_ going back there.

She lashes at him and misses, catching a tree instead, and when she goes following her whip _he_ is following her. The miss leaves her open for a flurry of attacks that he ends with a strong thrust, and she growls at him when she does turn around.

  
She’s a near-silent menace, and he dashes out of the way of her whip when she finally retaliates. Another running dash takes him into range to spray her with Aphrodite’s blessed bloodstones, and she hunches in on herself. Oh, he recognizes that — the spray of shots in a circle around her are thankfully slow enough for him to avoid them. 

The ground underneath his feet is heating up, to a point that even he can feel, and he runs out of the way as Meg summons another circle of flame where he was once standing. 

“No can do, Meg,” he calls to her, half-hiding behind a tree as Tisiphone exhausts her shots. He is honestly grateful that she can’t do to the outside world what she was able to do to the arena they fought in. He couldn’t deal with that level of containment, not like this.

She is growling _murder, murderer_ at him when she comes for him next, and though she catches him with the whip he is able to get out of it before she follows through. He strikes her in the arm, though it’s not her dominant one, and she howls. 

Just the sound of her screaming sends a terrible shiver down his spine, but he presses on. If he gets much more hurt, he’s taking a trip back to the Underworld, and that is _not_ happening.

He’s learning the rhythm of her attacks again — dodges her whip so that it catches on the landscape, dashes in behind her when she has to follow through. It feels like fighting dirty, but three versus one was never fair anyway. 

Meg calls another fiery ring on his heels as he follows her sister, striking and striking again, and as soon as he gathers up another bloodstone, he fires it straight at the other Fury. 

Tisiphone was more injured than he thought, clearly, because the pink spray catches in her skin and turns her to dust everywhere that it touches. She, too, is gone on the wind.

He’s panting, exhausted, when he turns to look up at Meg. Her face is hard, her mouth a hard line, and her whip is folded up in her hands. He’s bleeding, but he doesn’t look away from her when he wipes his dirty palms on his pants. 

“What are you doing out here, Zagreus?” she asks finally, but there’s none of the anger in it than he expected. 

“I’m not giving up until I find my mother,” he answers, sways a little on his feet when the breeze comes through. He shivers. 

She lands on the ground, feet touching down with a soft sound, and takes a half-step toward him. “Did you really defeat your father?”

“I—” He’s surprised that anyone would be brave enough to suggest that, much less believe it. “Yeah. I did. How did you—”

She huffs, tosses her head. “I put the pieces together. And it’s not like Cerberus would have refused you passage, so he must have had a last line of defense. He’s been gone from the house more and more, lately.”

“…yeah,” he agrees. Sighs. The adrenaline is slowly wearing off, and he feels — bad.

Meg takes another step toward him, hand outstretched, and he flinches away on instinct. She could kill him, right here.

There’s no way she didn’t see him recoil, but she doesn’t berate him. Not how he expected, anyway.

“I’m not going to fight you, Zagreus. Come on.” She rolls her eyes. He lets her come closer, then, and when she touches his cheek with her cold palm he leans into it. It’s only been five days on the surface, without familiar contact, but he revels in it. Even though he’s bloodied and sore.

Though, to be fair, a lot of his good times with Meg ended with him bloodied and sore, too. He snorts at the thought, not meaning to, and looks back at her face to see that she’s just watching him.

“What are you going to do, then?” he asks her, even as her thumb strokes his cheekbone. “It’s not like you can help me.”

“Maybe not how you think.” She purses her lips and looks away, then back at him. “You need to go to Athens and seek the Areopagus. Pray to your goddess Athena and hope that she grants you her time.” There’s a disgusted look on her face, but it’s not directed at him. 

“What will — what will that do? I’m supposed to be going to Olympus.” He doesn’t mention the nymph he’s helping, doesn’t think it will help. Doesn’t want to push Meg too far. 

“Your lord father will not give up on taking you back to the House. He sends us after you under the reasoning of filial betrayal, and unless you are acquitted of that judgment, we will not stop. Can not stop.”

“Meg…”

“Don’t ‘Meg’ me. Go East, to Athens. Pray to your goddess. Don’t make me come after you again.”

Her hand comes down from his cheek to rest against the side of his neck. He can’t stop looking at her. Her red eyes shine in the light.

She’s the first to look away, to step away. He feels rooted to the spot.  
“The next time I see you had better be at trial. Don’t make me regret this.”

“I won’t let you down,” he assures her, watching as she readies herself for flight. Where is she going to go?

“I know you won’t.”


	4. a visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> zagreus catches a break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to the commenter who asked about thanatos -- here's best boy! i've been dying (hah) for him to show up since i started this. here's hoping i did him justice.
> 
> this is unbeta'd and churned out in less than 24 hours, so while i've read it like four times, i'm sure i missed something. all mistakes are my own.

When the sun takes its place behind the horizon, Zagreus finds himself a place off the beaten path to settle in for the night. Can Nyx feel him when he’s swathed in darkness here? It feels like she can, but that might be a symptom of missing her terribly.

Seeing Meg was good for him. Even if he’s still sore and aching and very slowly healing — he hasn’t made even half the progress he normally does, after the fight with the other Furies — it was some comfort to hear her voice. And he is healing. It’s difficult to walk, some, but he’s not bleeding any longer, and that’s a small blessing.

Speaking of blessings...

He’s never prayed to anyone before. But he’s going to follow Meg’s advice, because she knows things he doesn’t, and he does not want to fight her sisters again. Doesn’t want to chance it.

He finds an outcropping of rocks that block the wind and clears away the snow in a half-circle so that he has somewhere mostly dry to sit. He’s finding that he has all sorts of opinions about things he likes and doesn’t like about the surface. Cold, wet pants are at the top of the ‘no’ list, so far.

(The top of the ‘yes’ list is, currently, the smell of the air in the morning.)

He takes a seat, leaning Stygius against the rock at his back, and he starts… trying to pray. _  
_

_Goddess Athena, please grant me your aid. Or — your time? I’ve made it to the surface but my father has sent the Furies after me. I am on my way to Athens, but —_

He loses his train of thought at the sound of something making noise in the trees — some kind of animal.

_Ugh. Try again._

_Lady Athena, please hear my prayer. I seek your guidance and assistance in freeing myself from the torment of the Furies. Hades has sent them after me now that I have made my way out of the Underworld. I hurry to Athens, but I hope that you might be able to lend me your assistance once more._

Maybe that will do? The wind is all he can hear, now, and there is no sign that she has heard his plea. Maybe he needs to find a temple, and pray to her there. Or contact one of her priestesses?

Gods, this is more difficult than he expected. But he can’t fight off the Furies again, so he’s going to have to figure it out.

He tilts his head back and opens his eyes, looking up at the stars. The night sky brings him peace, and he could use something to battle the frustration in his chest.

There’s a rustling sound, _close_ , and even as he turns his head to look he is reaching for his sword.

It’s —

“Thanatos?!” He’s mirroring Zagreus’ position on the ground, legs folded beneath him. His hood is down, his scythe is nowhere to be seen, and he is just… staring.

“Zagreus,” he answers, nodding his head minutely, and every tightly-wound nerve in Zagreus’ chest loosens, instantly.

Zagreus leaps for the him without thinking, wrapping his arms around Than’s neck and holding back only so they don’t both hit the ground. Than makes a grunting noise but catches him all the same. Zagreus has never felt so free.

“I won’t ask you if you’ve missed me,” Than dryly says next to his ear, cool hands pressing against his back, his bare shoulder. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to come when you called.”

“Of course I missed you!” Zagreus disentangles himself reluctantly, but he wants to be able to see his friend’s face. “Being out… having made it out — it’s great. But I missed you, and everyone else, a lot.” He sighs. “I didn’t expect to.”

“Well, I’m here now,” Than offers, shrugging one shoulder. He shifts, a little, on the bare ground.

“How — how long are you able to be here?” Zagreus feels energized, too big for his skin. His blood is thrumming.

“Don’t worry about it,” is all that Than says, which… Zagreus should have expected that response. “What is your plan?”

From anyone else it would be a non-sequitur, but Thanatos has always been picky about details. He’s brilliant, that way. It’s not a surprise, at least, for him to ask.

The wind is blowing through Than’s hair, and maybe it doesn’t bother him, but it’s bothering Zagreus to see it — to know the cold bite of it — and he shifts over some to make space.

“Come sit next to me, and I’ll tell you?” he suggests, patting the empty patch of ground, and Than just… does. It’s gratifying.

“I’m on my way to Athens, hopefully,” he starts, looking over in the direction he’s pretty sure is East. Without the sun in the sky, he struggles to tell. “And then, after that, Olympus.”

Than hums. “Why Athens first?”

“I — had a run in with the Furies today,” he admits. Rolls his shoulder. “Meg let me get away — don’t tell anyone else that — and she told me to… go to Athens. To find something called an Areopagus?” Sharing it makes it feel more and less real, all at once. He doesn’t think she would lie to him, but there is no way it will be easy.

Then again, it’s not like anything thus far has been easy, either, and that hasn’t stopped him yet.

“She wants you to have a trial?”

“I — I guess? She didn’t give me a lot of details.”

“It’s happened once before,” Than offers. Zagreus is having a very hard time not staring at him, and presses their shoulders together instead. In camaraderie. “The Goddess Athena presided over a trial and ultimately pardoned the mortal Orestes for the crime of killing his mother. Prior to that, the Furies spent a long while tormenting him. I believe it was a complicated trial, though I only know that from Megaera complaining about it at the time.”

“Do you think…” He glances at Than’s face and finds that the other man is looking at him already, yellow eyes luminescent in the mostly-darkness. The half moon is the only source of light overhead. “Do you think that they will pardon me?”

“I would hope so. You deserve it, anyway.” He looks away, and Zagreus watches his hand clench on empty air. “It goes against most of the rules, for you to leave the Underworld, yes, but that is not why the Furies have been sent after you.”

“Right. Filial betrayal.” Zagreus snorts.

“Either way, if Athena presides over your trial, it will be fair.”

“Right…” Talking about it is a big reminder that he still hasn’t heard back from her, that his prayer probably didn’t work. Would Than know anything about praying to the Olympic gods?

Before he can ask, Than shifts, stands. “I have to go,” he says, and something twinges in Zagreus’ chest. It feels like it has been no time at all that they have been here talking together.

But Zagreus knows, too, of Than’s dedication to his work.

He expects the other man to — to disappear immediately, like he always does, but Thanatos subverts that expectation. Instead, he continues to stand there at Zagreus’ side, looking down at him.

“Aren’t you going to give me a proper farewell?” Thanatos asks dryly, still watching him, and Zagreus scrambles to his feet. He feels off-kilter. Their normal goodbyes are just Than, disappearing into thin air.

“Proper farewell?” he asks, thinking back on the manners that Nyx taught him, an eternity ago. If Thanatos wants him to be polite, he will. He can do that, probably.

“Tch,” Than tuts, and then —

He reaches out and pulls Zagreus into a hug.

It’s more even than their last one, and Zagreus feels soothed all over by Than’s touch. It’s a reassurance, a comfort. Than always seems to know what he needs.

It takes real effort not to hold on too tightly, to cling. He doesn’t want to be alone again when Than leaves, but — this is the consequence, a consequence, of his actions. He knew it was going to be difficult when he decided to leave, even though he maybe hadn’t expected this.

He’s got to be strong.

“Fare well, Than,” he says, pressed nearly cheek-to-cheek with the other man. When he finally gives up and pulls away, he finds him to be wearing an unreadable expression.

“I will come back when I can,” he says, eyes on Zagreus’ face. “Be safe, Zagreus.”

He disappears, then, somewhere in the middle of “I will.”

Alone again, Zagreus sinks back to the ground.

It takes a long time for his mind to stop whirling away, but eventually he does find rest.


	5. a messenger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a new, friendly face appears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbeta'd, so all mistakes are my own!

Zagreus is starting to think that there’s something about him that causes people to come upon him while he’s sleeping. Stranger things have happened, really, so it must be true.   


Except, this time, instead of Iole or some other nymph — and it couldn’t be Iole, he has traveled too far for that — it’s Hermes.

  


“Is that really you, Coz? I got the call and I could hardly believe it! I can still hardly believe it!”   


Zagreus blinks his eyes open and, finding it difficult to believe, rubs at them with his fists.   


“Oh, but you’ve got your sword, and you’ve got that flaming laurel, so it must be you!” Hermes continues to chatter, leans in toward him from where he is hovering off the ground. His bag of scrolls and messages swings with the movement, but doesn’t spill.  


“Hermes?”  


“The one and only, boss! I’m so glad to see you! It’s been a minute since you accepted any boons, you know, and I don’t think I was the only one that was starting to worry!”  


“I — yeah.” He gets to his feet in an attempt to be on more even ground with Hermes, though it doesn’t make a great difference, and just — takes the other man in.  


His hair is swept back, and his yellow-orange scarf flutters in nonexistent wind. He bears a golden staff with details that Zagreus isn’t alert enough to take in. But the most important thing about him is the sheer joy with which he is looking at Zagreus. Like he actually meant any of the messages that came along with his boons.   


“Are you feeling alright, there?”

  


Hermes drags him out of his thoughts with his words, and Zagreus shakes his head to get it back on straight.  


“Yeah, sorry, I — I wasn’t expecting to see you, I guess.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Though, I am very glad to see you. It’s hard to believe, I guess…”  


“How long have you been out of the Underworld? Your father hasn’t come through tearing things up, but I guess there’s still time for that.”  


“About… about a week? Almost? He has sent the Furies after me, though. I fought them off yesterday, but it wasn’t easy. Without everyone’s blessings I never would have made it — against them, or otherwise.”  


“You say the nicest things, you know that?” Hermes floats — hovers? — a little closer, lays a hand on his shoulder. “So, what were you trying to get in touch with Athena for?”  


“You heard that?”  


“Of course I did! I am the messenger god for a reason, you know. But I heard your voice and thought it best that I come see you, instead. Taking messages the other way is just so impersonal!”   


“Oh, that makes sense.” Zagreus shakes his head again, trying to clear his thoughts. Everything happens so quickly, here on the surface. “I was told to go to Athens and seek help from Lady Athena to get the Furies off my back. Basically.” He doesn’t want to rehash it again. Mostly because, while he thinks Hermes is great, truly, he doesn’t want more people than necessary to know Meg has helped him. Doesn’t want her in trouble with his father.

  


“Ohh, like a trial? It’s been a while since Apollo’s mortal got pardoned, but that’s a good idea!” Hermes is beaming, bright like the sun. He turns and starts digging through his bag, which takes longer than Zagreus really expected.   


Eventually, though, he comes back up with a scroll, which he hands over.   
“Do you — have something to write with?” Zagreus asks, feeling silly. Not as if there were pockets on his clothes for things like that.  


“Oh, no, just —” Hermes takes the scroll back and unrolls it, zips past Zagreus to lay it flat against the rock that had been his shelter for the night. “Just put your hand flat on here, and put your thoughts into words, and it’ll write itself! Saves me loads of time, like you wouldn’t believe!”  


Well, that is easier than writing it out. And quicker. Hermes looks like he’s about to vibrate out of his skin just for being in one place for so long.   


So he does as instructed, laying his palm on the center of the paper and trying to convey his needs with words. He wishes he’d been more prepared for this. Even his two attempts the night before had been kind of a wreck, as far as pleas for help go.

  


When he opens his eyes once more, its to find that the scroll is filled with words — far more than he really thought he had to say, but maybe that’s just how it works. Hermes rolls it back up and produces a ribbon from somewhere, tying it closed with a big bow.   


“It’s been good seeing you, Coz. I’m going to take this to Athena immediately — keep headed to Athens, and we’ll see you when you get there, yeah?”  


“Oh — okay, yeah. It’s been good seeing you, too, Hermes.” The other man is a _whirlwind_ , that’s the only word for it. “Thank you for all your help. I couldn’t do this without you.”  


Hermes winks at him, cocking his head to the side, and says “I know,” before shooting straight up into the sky.

  


_Well, it’s time to get back to it_ , he thinks, watching as Hermes turns into a tinier and tinier speck against the sky. He picks up Stygius and starts walking. He has places to be, after all, and talking to Hermes seems to have put some pep in his step. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i want to offer a huge thank you to everyone that has been reading thus far. the reviews have all been so sweet (i'm sincerely emotional about them!) and watching the hits counter tick up is seriously putting me in my feelings somewhere. sharing fic (and especially a WIP) is not something i do! and this experience is mostly making me think 'and why don't I do these things again?'
> 
> i do want to provide fair warning that the next part, chronologically, is not going to be in normal fic form. mostly as a consequence of the fact that trying to get an Ancient Athenian Trial correct is giving me the jeebies. do you know how much of eumenides i have read? it's a lot, and it hasn't really helped. who woulda thought there would be a dearth of information about ancient culture, i know, i know
> 
> still, before my notes get longer than this scene was, i want to say thank you again to everyone that is reading this. we'll see the not!fic update soon (as soon as I write it, realistically, because I have a problem) and I am already working on the actual chapter that will follow that.


	6. a (not!fic) trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> please enjoy my rambling not-a-chapter summation (can we call it a summation if it’s 3k words?) of zagreus’ time in athens and the trial against the furies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning for this chapter, for discussions of past abuse. it hurt me to write it, and i would hate for it to hurt someone else to read it unexpectedly.  
> also, there are like three capital letters in this whole 'chapter'. fair warning.

it takes zagreus about four more days to make it to athens. he definitely has his first real mortal contact by asking someone for directions, but he’s so amiable that it’s not really a big deal. to the mortal, anyway. he, personally, is thrilled to speak to another person. secretly, he’s starting to think that that delight isn’t going to go away any time soon. long periods of solitude do not suit him, he is discovering. no matter how much time he spent sulking in his rooms at the House, before

but anyway, he makes it to athens. has to stop and get more directions, though this time he is more confident in it. definitely passes the public baths somewhere along the way and yearns to give them a try. baths aren’t really a thing in the underworld! the blood of the river styx just wicks itself off of him every time he’s died, after all, and that’s the closest he ever gets to water. 

he does make it to the areopagus, though, sometime after the sun’s highest point in the sky. he’s not sure what he was expecting, but to find Hermes and the person that must be Athena standing there, waiting for him — well. that was never in the cards.

‘cousin, it is good to see you,’ athena says when he approaches, meets him half way. hermes has already flown almost directly into him and wrapped him into an eager hug, which — hermes is just great, zagreus has decided. 

‘and it is good to see you, Lady Athena’ he answers, taking a knee in front of her. she laughs, a little, at him.

‘that’s not necessary, zagreus. you are family, not a stranger. don’t forget that,’ and then she’s helping him back to his feet. ‘i got your message from hermes. we can have a trial by this time tomorrow, if it suits you.’

‘oh, i mean — that’s great! if. if it suits you? any time is fine, but as soon as possible would be ideal, i guess —’

hermes bumps his shoulder from his place at zagreus’ side, drawing his attention.

‘if it’s alright with you, boss, i could represent you in the trial. i mean, i think i know more about what you’re going through than any of the others, just by virtue of being down there so much!’

zagreus can’t keep the grateful smile off his face. he doesn’t know what being represented means or requires, but he is so thankful for hermes. 

‘i’d really appreciate that, hermes. thank you.’

athena leaves shortly thereafter, citing a need to pull together the jurors for the trial. but not before she clasps him on the shoulder one last time and calls him cousin, again. just another reminder that he is, in fact, family to her. not related, but family.

hermes leaves not long after that, too, because someone has to take a message to the furies to let them know they’re being summoned for the trial. but now, standing alone on the top of this hill, in the (metaphorical) shadow of the acropolis, he does not feel quite so lonely as before.

zagreus ends up finding somewhere to camp out and rest — he doesn’t know enough about mortal customs to even think of asking to stay the night with someone, and i don’t know enough about ancient athens and their customs to know how they would take to a visitor. i’m assuming pretty well? like it’s something in the vein of the christian idea of ‘any stranger could be an angel in disguise’ kind of thing, but. this is not!fic for a reason, i didn’t want to try to look it up. i’ll be honest.

anyway. zagreus, camping out for the night. despite the fact that he’s been roughing it for the last week and a half, a) being on the surface has given him opportunity for the most rest he’s had in months and b) sleeping in nature is GREAT to someone whose previous ideas of nature was, like. tartarus, and asphodel, and elysium. which is to say, not real nature. there’s no animals in the underworld! it’s just not the same. 

i think that someone shows up, before the night is out. i’m spitballing, but it’s either hermes coming back, or thanatos making another showing. i’m on the fence. i’m thinking it’s thanatos, because — he promised, and hermes happened to run in to him when he was delivering his message to the furies, anyway.

so than appears, while zagreus is awake this time — he’s laid out on his back, looking at the stars. he’d be reading the codex if the light was better — achilles had a surprising lot to include on the surface world. there’s a part of zagreus that wonders if, maybe, achilles put it in just for him, for when he finally escaped. 

but anyway. than appears, standing looming while zagreus is stretched out on his back with his arms beneath his head. he’s a visual picture of calm, though his mind is whirling. the idea of just — letting whatever is going to happen, happen, tomorrow, well. zagreus has never liked having a hands-off approach to his own fate. but athena and hermes are gone, so he’s just internalizing it. 

‘what in the world are you doing, zag?’ than asks instead of saying hello, and zagreus turns his eyes from the stars to the god of death, who is in the middle of phasing his scythe into nonexistence. 

‘looking at the stars, of course,’ he replies, and despite all his worry, he can’t help but smile. he sits up. ‘it’s good to see you, again,’ he says. makes as if he’s going to stand, but than just holds a hand out to him.

‘well, don’t let me interrupt your stargazing,’ than says, voice dry but with his lips quirking up into a little smile. he takes a seat of his own and, with zagreus watching him, lays out beside him on the ground. ‘how are you liking athens?’ he asks, as if this is a normal situation, and zagreus gives him a strange look before eventually giving up and laying back down. he turns his eyes to the stars again.

‘it’s alright. i mean, it’s beautiful. and the mortals are… interesting. people are so different as shades.’ he sighs. ‘i met with athena, and hermes. there will be a trial tomorrow.’ 

‘it’s okay to be nervous about it,’ than says, shifting a little on his back. ‘i’ve never seen a trial before, but i’m sure athena would talk you through it if you asked her.’

‘but what if i —’ zagreus huffs out a sigh. he doesn’t really want to talk about this, doesn’t want than to know how insecure he’s feeling about it, but — what other options does he have? he could talk to the thin air, later, but that won’t help him. ‘what if i’m not good enough, and they let the furies drag me back to the underworld?’

‘i can’t imagine that’s going to happen, zag.’ than shifts again, and now they’re pressed shoulder to shoulder. ‘you’ve got two olympians on your side, not including any of the ones you’ve yet to meet. they had faith in you to escape, and you have to have faith in them to help keep you out, if it comes to it.’

‘you think it’s that easy?’

‘i didn’t say it was _easy_. just that you have to.’ than laughs, a little, but it’s something kind.  
‘i guess you’re right,’ zagreus agrees after some time, and turns away from the sky to look at than. ‘we talk enough about me, though. how are you?’

‘i don’t think that’s true,’ than says, snorting. it doesn’t make any sense to zagreus, but than carries on anyway. ‘i’m good. busy, because ares’ war doesn’t show any sign of stopping, but these things happen.’ he shrugs. ‘i haven’t been back to the house much, but hypnos did ask me to tell you hello. and achilles says he’s very proud of you.’ 

something squeezes zagreus’ heart at that, and he rubs at his eyes with the palm of one hand. ‘i’m glad you’re here,’ is what he eventually says, when his eyes are no longer so wet. achilles is proud of him, and than is here. 

i think that than (much like zagreus) does not actually know anything about constellations, but they lay there in silence (or mostly silence) for a long time before than announces that he has to go. this time, zagreus is already on board with a ‘proper farewell’, and is hugging than close and tight, for as long as he dares to, as soon as they’re both standing. 

than tells him one last time to have faith, and then he’s — gone.

the trial is, of course, an Ordeal.

there are twelve mortal jurors, athena as judge, hermes representing zagreus, and the furies (mostly meg) representing themselves. in what counts as an audience are much of the rest of the pantheon — zeus and poseidon, hephaestus and aphrodite, hera and dionysus. ares is busy with the war, of course. apollo is, naturally, pulling the sun across the sky. artemis is tied up with something that no one can put name to, and the same applies to demeter. 

the highlights of the trial, i think, are this —

the furies state that their call to Torment zagreus is because of filial betrayal, which is countered by hermes because of, you know, the verbal and emotional abuse. alecto pipes up and says that that behavior is normal for hades, that he treats everyone that way, and besides, zagreus _deserves_ it, which REALLY wins her points with the jury. (it doesn’t. that’s sarcasm.)

athena asks, as softly and gravely as she has ever spoken, if he could share some of the abusive experience with the jury. hermes starts to rattle off things that just he has seen, in that fast-paced, nearly-tripping-over-his-words way, but zagreus puts a hand on his arm to stop him short. 

‘i think it will mean more from me,’ zagreus says, and steps forward to address the jury and the furies and athena and half the pantheon. 

zagreus talks about — everything that can come to mind, without really thinking about whether it benefits his case or not, because he’s out of his comfort zone, here.

he mentions the guilt trips that he puts cerberus in the middle of, as if it’s zagreus’ fault that the hound had been left ignored and to his own devices to tear up the house. he mentions the way that, if anything can be made into his fault, it is. he mentions the way that he is never even remotely treated as an equal — always as a child. and he has not been a child for a long time, had once upon a time held responsibilities in the house, but hades never talked to him the way he talked to megaera or thanatos or even hypnos, or achilles. was never once given an ounce of respect or even a begrudging moment of his time that was not laced with ‘why are you bothering me’ attitude. is that truly family? if it is, is that not its own filial betrayal, to treat someone bound to you by blood as if they are the scum upon the bottom of your shoe, for no reason other than existing?

aphrodite sniffles in the audience behind him when he does finally stop talking. meg is watching him, face steely except for her eyes, which are — softer than he’s ever seen them. though maybe that’s just a trick of the light — the sun can do so many things. tisiphone is standing at the back of the fury trio, quiet and watching, but alecto tries to jump in with an invective tirade that has meg putting her hand out to stop her. even the jurors are watching him with strange, pitying expressions. 

but he doesn’t want pity. he wants to be free.

the jury goes to deliberate, and zagreus and hermes linger together while they wait. he wants to talk to meg, but of course he can’t talk to meg. she’s on the job, like this, and he doesn’t want that meg. and he doesn’t want to get her in trouble. hermes must see him looking, though, because he gets an elbow to the ribs for it.

‘you and the fury megaera, really?’ he asks. ‘that must make things quite complicated, huh?’

‘something like that,’ zagreus answers, but meg has turned her eyes to him at the sound of her name, and he looks away from her. 

the olympians are talking, too, though athena stays separate from all of them, and none of them come down from the clouds zeus had pulled up for them to rest in. it’s a low murmur of voices, of voices that he’s familiar with and some that he doesn’t know, but the pity in their words is audible far beyond how their voices carry. he hates it, but he’s getting what he wants, so — he can’t complain.

the jury returns after some time, and things fall back into place, into silence. the olympians know better than to disrespect athena’s process, here. 

the jurors rule in zagreus’ favor. it’s — so simple. it seems too easy. but the furies are told to lay off his back, and (though zagreus doesn’t know this) they don’t get half the effort to soothe ruffled feathers as they did during orestes’ trial. probably because meg doesn’t push for it — because alecto is going to be pissed one way or the other, and tisiphone doesn’t really care since zagreus himself has not murdered anyone. it’s — unnervingly easy. 

alecto leaves immediately, in a rage, and tisiphone makes her own way toward what must be the entrance to the underworld that is nearby. zagreus, through a complicated series of eyebrow movements and head gestures, gets meg to meet him alone. 

‘meg, i —’he stops, tongue-tied. she doesn’t look mad, not like alecto, but she’s not happy, either. 

‘what, zagreus.’ there’s a strange tone to her voice.

‘meg, i can’t thank you enough for — for helping me like this. i know you never pulled your punches when we fought, but this is… different.’

‘tch. maybe i shouldn’t have.’ as a sentiment, it’s not one he was expecting.

‘what? why! i thought you’d be happy you didn’t have to stand miserable guard in tartarus with your sisters anymore.’

‘you realize we aren’t going to see each other again after this, right, zagreus? it’s not like i’m _thanatos_ , who can just leave the underworld at will to come see you.’ she scoffs in disgust, whether with herself or him he doesn’t know, and crosses her arms.

‘i’m… i’m sorry, meg. you know i had to do this.’

‘i know, i know, you need to find your mother.’ it sounds like she’s brushing him off, but it doesn’t feel like it. no one is ever going to understand his need to find persephone, and he’s starting to realize that. no one else feels adrift like he does. 

‘it’s not just about that, meg. i mean… if someone talked to you — if i talked to you or treated you the way that my father treats me, what would you do?’

‘hmpjh. you wouldn’t live through it.’ she’s at least looking at him again, though, which is a win of its own.

‘right. exactly. and i — may not agree with everyone that called it abuse, but i… i’ve been alone for the most part for the last week and a half, up here, and i’m happier than i’ve ever been. and it’s not because of the fresh air and the sunlight, meg.’

he sighs when she doesn’t say anything, and reaches out to touch her arm, her wrist. that she doesn’t flinch away is its own win. ‘i care about you, meg, and i’m going to miss you. and i’m sorry that you — you’re going to miss me, too.’

she makes defensive noises that amount to ‘as _if_ ,’ but she drops her whip to the ground and curls her hand around the wrist of the hand that’s touching her. her fingers are cool and a little rough. her bright-pink lips are a wry smile.

‘you’re really doing this, aren’t you?’ she asks, touching him and looking at him in such a weighted way that it settles, like a warm weight, on his shoulders. 

‘i think it’s too late to go back, now, isn’t it?’ he answers, and she laughs. he knows now that her expression before, during the trial, wasn’t a trick of the light. her eyes are damp. so are his.

‘good luck, zagreus,’ she tells him. ‘maybe you’re the god of stubbornness, but i don’t think anyone else will be able to do it if you can’t.’

‘thank you, meg. if you do end up on the surface and ever want to find me —’  
she shakes her head, and he thinks a tear might track its way down her face. 

‘don’t count on it.’ she squeezes his wrist, once, and then pulls away. ‘i’ve got to go.’

zagreus watches her leave, fluttering up into the sky. when he turns his gaze back to the ground, her whip is still there, coiled on the ground. he picks it up and tucks it into his tunic, and hopes that she won’t be too angry when she realizes she left it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, zag’s descriptions of his experiences in hades’ house come from conversations from the game itself, but i also projected hard onto this scene and a lot of my headcanons everywhere else, too. the same thing goes for zag’s idea of -- that what happened to him doesn’t count as ‘abuse’. it took me years to realize that being afraid when someone passive aggressively folds socks in your direction, or does paperwork in your direction, for zag, is not normal. and i don’t think zagreus reacts to these things with fear -- i don’t think at any point he’s really shown fear of hades, and this is where he and i are different. he’s going to get mad before he gets upset, IMO.
> 
> but. anyway. before i accidentally ramble another thousand words in the AN, i just wanted to say that -- not all of my descriptions come from canon, here, but the ones that don’t are from my own, literal experiences.


End file.
